Almost 20 years ago, when we were 15, five friends started a rock band. Something pretty unusual these days. We got together to write songs, play at school, and like almost every band when they’re starting out, we copied.

We copied the Beatles. We had a song that was probably about 85% “Let It Be.” We were learning, imitating the most influential band in modern culture.

And that reference never went away. When we worked on arrangements (from the very beginning until not long ago with my brother) the Beatles always came up.

“Make the bass more melodic, like Paul.”

“Give the beat more of a Ringo feel.”

“I imagine a George-style guitar here.”

It was just part of the process. I’d even say that in recording sessions all over the world, at some point someone mentions the Beatles.

That’s why what happened at Abbey Road wasn’t just about meeting someone famous. It was something else.

A year earlier, Juanchi, Calin, Luis, Gara, and I were in London for Calin’s bachelor party. We stopped by Abbey Road as tourists. We took the photo on the zebra crossing. The classic one everyone takes.

A year later, we were walking past the security gate.

The entrance to Abbey Road.

Entering Abbey Road hits you from the lobby. They display the original analog equipment that’s no longer used. If you’re a fan, you recognize it from all the historic photos. Then the hallways, the pictures from the Star Wars score recordings, from The Dark Side of the Moon.

And then you walk into Studio 2.

The view from the staircase.

You see the stairs. You see the walls. And you see the pianos. There were two. The dark one the Beatles used to record “Lady Madonna.” The Challen piano they used for “A Day in the Life.” I played both. You can even see cigarette marks on the wood. I like to think one of those stains is from Paul. Juanchi even licked them. That was his move.

I’m not someone who believes in energies or sacred places. But that place feels different. Like the walls have memory.

Making a record there nowadays makes no practical sense. It’s expensive. It’s complicated. The logistics are terrible. Nobody does it because it’s convenient. And that’s exactly why it’s unique. There’s nothing more magical than doing something that makes absolutely no sense.

That day we were getting ready for the session. I was upstairs in the control room, listening to how everything sounded before we started recording.

Suddenly Andrea, the wife of my brother Juanchi, came up and said: “Come down now!”

My first thought was that I’d broken something. That I had destroyed some sacred piece of the temple. I went down the stairs and from the top I saw Paul McCartney walking into the studio.

I went straight up to him and shook his hand. His hand was extremely soft, random detail of course. He was wearing a Patek Philippe on his wrist. My first thought: I’m taller than Paul. I’d always imagined him bigger.

He looked at me and asked, “Are you the producer?” In those few seconds I had to figure out how to explain to Paul McCartney that I was the band’s original drummer but that I’m not active anymore. I ended up saying: “Band member.”

“Band member. Nice!” And then he started telling stories.

He was in the building that day by pure chance, listening to a remix of some Wings records. Normally he goes straight to the technical rooms. He doesn’t pass by Studio 2. But he heard a rock band playing live. And that’s not common anymore. So he peeked in. He stayed. He listened. He was even headbanging.

We started by imitating the Beatles in Caracas when we were 15. And 20 years later we met Paul McCartney at Abbey Road. The most beautiful full circle I’ve ever experienced.

At one point, very politely, he mentioned that back in the day people lived more in the moment and there weren’t so many cameras. A classy way of saying: “Don’t film me.” Inside I was like: sure, whatever you say, Paul.

He told us stories from when he was young. He mentioned John. He was speaking in his Liverpool accent in the same room where everything had happened.

For that moment to exist, too many things had to line up. The band’s schedule, Abbey Road’s schedule, Morat’s schedule, the producers’. And that Paul, on that specific day, decided to poke his head in because he heard live rock. Even the Abbey Road engineers, the ones who work their normal 9-to-5 there, told us: “This never happens. Never.”

@losmesoneros

Cuando vas a grabar tu sesión en Abbey Road y UN BEATLE interrumpe y se mete a conocerte😱😱😱. Gracias Sir @Paul McCartney por la bendición y por darnos un dia que jamas olvidaremos 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 “ESO Que Nos Trajo A Abbey Road” la sesion completa ya disponible en nuestro canal de Youtube.

♬ sonido original – Los Mesoneros

While Paul was telling stories, I thought about Juanchi. My brother. The one who deserved this moment the most. He was in the bathroom. Paul left just as Juanchi came back. We told him: “Paul McCartney just left.”

Luckily he didn’t think it was a joke. Andrea yelled: “Go now!” And he ran after him. That’s how Juanchi had his moment with Paul. No cameras. Just the two of them.

He told him: “The reason we’re doing this is because of you.”

And Paul replied: “I know.”

When the video went viral, I experienced the amazement all over again. People wrote to me on Instagram, on X, on LinkedIn. People who know me in completely different contexts suddenly saw me at that moment.

But what really got to me were the genuine reactions of happiness. From people I don’t know, who felt it as if it were their own moment. And especially Venezuelans. The ones who were there since the bars of Caracas. The same ones who saw us playing illegally when we were 15.

Meeting Paul at Abbey Road unlocked one feeling in my life. But reading those reactions unlocked another. One I didn’t expect.

After so much effort, so much time, so much distance, and so much nostalgia, this feels like a win for Venezuela.

And that’s worth more than anything else.

Juanchi, Luis, and Calin: thank you for letting me be part of this.

We started by imitating the Beatles in Caracas when we were 15. And 20 years later we met Paul McCartney at Abbey Road.

The most beautiful full circle I’ve ever experienced.

Here’s the full session.